“You can do whatever you want to me”, I whispered as we walked into the restaurant, “and you’re taking me on a date?” Here this man was, leading me into a restaurant way nicer than I had ever been to, opening doors for me and telling me that I looked beautiful in this skin-tight dress that he had picked out for me. I didn’t understand, this isn’t what I had imagined when we had agreed on a weekend together. We had agreed that this weekend was about sex, about having a safe space to explore my kinks with someone with more experience than I had, not about romance or going out on dates. I was done with love, and I had told him that when we made this agreement. I wasn’t interested in a “real” relationship, not after the last one.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “The agreement was that I could do whatever I wanted to you, and I wanted to take you out.”
“Why?” I was skeptical of the whole thing, trying to imagine every possible reason why he would want to take me out to dinner. “Is this all a ruse and this is some sort of dungeon,” I asked.
“No,” he laughed again. Why did he keep laughing at me? This weekend wasn’t about romance, this had to have some kind of sexual motivation.
“Are you gonna fuck me in front of everyone?”
“No.”
“In the bathroom? Tease me under the table?”
“As much as I would like to, no,” he laughed again and leaned down until his mouth was at my ear. “That comes later.”
Before I had time to respond, he had stood back up and was giving the hostess the reservation name. I followed him to our table, still silently questioning why we were here. He had already said that he didn’t plan on having sex here, but nothing in our agreement said that he had to tell me the truth. Maybe this was all a ruse and this was some sort of exhibition. No, this would have been too much effort to put into that, he would have openly taken me to a dungeon. And if he fucked me in front of everyone, we would both be arrested. Plus there were children here, so neither of those explanations made sense. There was still the bathroom idea, but this place felt too classy for that. I would just have to wait and see what his plans for me were.
The hostess walked us to our table, and the waiter took our order almost immediately. I ordered a pasta dish that I had never heard of, while he ordered a ridiculously overpriced steak. While we waited for our food, I began to relax a little bit, being careful to not let my guard completely fall. Keeping my walls up, though, was easier said than done, and he was slowly taking them down, piece by piece. We were laughing and telling each other stories of the dumb stuff that we had done as kids, talking about our day-to-day lives, about our goals and ambitions. This felt like a real date, it didn’t feel like a set-up, it didn’t feel like it was part of a kink exploration. There was a connection, more than just sex. But this weekend was about sex, and I was not looking to get into another relationship. I wanted to explore my sexual interests, that’s it.
“Check please,” he asked the waiter, pulling me out of my daze. I hadn’t realized that it was already time to go, and part of me didn’t want to go. Yes, I was excited about what was coming later, but this dinner was a nice surprise, and a very welcomed change from what I was used to. The waiter brought our check, and he paid, not even letting me look at the bill. Once the waiter returned with his card, we both started to get up.
“Sit down,” he commanded quietly, and I obeyed, surprised. He walked around to my side of the table and pulled my chair out, the gentlemanly act a stark contrast from the authoritative tone that he had used to speak. I looked up at him, silently asking if I could get up, and he offered his hand to me. I placed my hand in his, and I rose. He led me out of the restaurant, through the parking lot, and to his car. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to get in. I did, pulling at my dress as I sat down, trying to make sure that I was completely covered. I expected him to pull it up again, to slap my ass, to do something, but he didn’t. Once I had sat down, he simply closed the door and got into the driver’s seat.
As we drove, his demeanor changed. It was no longer the gentle, kind energy that it was at the restaurant, it was domineering, and powerful enough that I stayed quiet as we headed toward our destination. Slowly, we entered a more rural area, one with less streetlights and very few houses, with lots of areas to pull over to begin fishing or hiking. We were getting close to the house that we had rented, and while I was excited, I was also getting more and more nervous.
Without saying a word, he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. He put the car in park, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face me. I followed his lead and unbuckled, then turned to face him.
“Rule number one,” he began, his voice so much sharper than it been during dinner. “If you need to use the safeword, you use it. Use it, everything stops immediately, and we figure out what happened and how to continue. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“What word have you chosen?”
“Lemon,” I stated firmly, nodding just a bit when I spoke.
“Works for me. Rule number two, until 8:00 Sunday evening, you are mine. I can, and will, do anything and everything that I want with you. Do you have any issues with that?”
“No.”
“Good. Now this weekend is about you, so you can call me whatever you would like. My name, Sir, Daddy, whatever you’d like. Is there anything you would like me to call you, or anything that’s off limits?” He was being really thorough with this explanation, I really appreciated it. It was comforting, it made me feel safe.
“Um, I don’t think so,” I answered a little hesitantly. I wracked my brain in an effort to think of anything I wouldn’t want him calling me, but there was nothing. I also wasn’t sure what to call him. I had always been curious about calling someone Daddy, but that felt awkward. I was sure that he got called that a lot, he looked like someone that would be called Daddy. He was tall, I was eye level with his chest, and he was muscular. He had worn a long-sleeved button up to the restaurant, but I could see the shape of his arms and the hardness of his chest under the fabric. Tattoos crept out from his sleeves onto his hands, wrapping around his fingers. I couldn’t tell what the design was, but I was sure that it would make more sense once I saw the whole piece. He had a handsome face, with soft angles and a well-groomed, dark colored beard that surrounded soft-looking lips. The hair on his head matched the darkness of his facial hair, and the combination made his green eyes pop.
“Alright. Do you have any questions? Anything at all?”
I shook my head. We had a pretty extensive written contract, and I couldn’t think of anything I was unclear on. He nodded his head as if he was in thought for a moment, then suddenly his hand was pulling my dress down, exposing my breasts. My nipples instantly hardened and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cool air or from the excitement that the movement sent through me. He reached up and grabbed my face, his thumb one one side and the rest of his fingers on the other. I could feel heat rise build in my cheeks as he pulled me towards him, forcing me to lean across the console. He tilted my head up and brought his mouth down to meet mine. My body lit up as his tongue pushed into my mouth, making it clear who was in charge. As we kissed, he reached down and quickly found my nipple. He pinched and rolled it in between his fingers, making me jerk back, but he tightened his grip, keeping me in place. I reached over to touch his face, but I was met with a hand around my wrist, pushing my hand back towards me.
“No.” He growled against my mouth. “Don’t touch me unless I tell you to.”
“Yes Sir,” I whimpered, putting my hand back on my thigh. I called him Sir instinctively, and saying the words turned me on more than I would’ve liked to admit.
“Good girl.”
He put his hand back on my breast, rubbing and feeling all of it, and giving my nipple one more little pinch, harder this time than before, before moving to the other one. From there, he moved down my body to my left thigh and gripped it so hard that I was sure there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers. Nobody had ever manhandled me like that, everyone I’d been with before had always touched me gently, and the mix of pain and novelty set me on fire. The hand that was holding my face to his loosened, then began to move downwards. I pulled away from him ever so slightly, just to get a breath of cool air. As soon as my lips left his, his hand wrapped around my throat and pulled me towards him again, but didn’t kiss me. Instead he straightened up and looked down at me, and I felt like a child that was in trouble. I could feel my face getting red from the lack of air, and part of me began to panic. The heat that was growing between my legs overrode the feeling, though, and a smile began to creep across my face. He cocked his head, then smirked down at me.
“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with you,” he said, and my mind began to race through all the things he could do to me. He released his grip on me, and I gasped as air filled my lungs. He let out a small chuckle, then I felt his fingers let go of my thigh and move upwards. My breath hitched as he touched my panties. I knew that he would be able to feel how wet I was. I was sure that if we turned the light on, he would be able to see a dark spot on the fabric. I turned my gaze down to his hand, embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
“Look at me,” he commanded. My head immediately snapped up and met his gaze. He slipped his hand under my panties and an amused grin broke out across his face. “Someone’s enjoying themself.” A wave of shame washed over me, and I looked back down. As soon as my eyes left his, though, his hand was back around my neck, forcing me to look directly into his eyes while he began to touch me. He slipped between my lips, and quickly found my clit. I was already so sensitive, I had been anticipating this all evening, and the touch sent lightning through me. He didn’t linger in the spot, though, he instead kept moving, careful not to put too much pressure in any one place. He let go of my throat, and as air rushed into my lungs, he pushed his finger into my entrance, entering me for the first time. Another finger followed, and they soon found my G-spot. As he began to finger-fuck me, I started to grind myself against his hand, and I could almost immediately feel an orgasm building.
“That’s it, there you go. Ride my fingers like the slut you are. Show me how much you want to come right here on the side of the road. Show me how desperate, how needy you are. Show me, baby.” His voice was low and gravelly, and his words almost sent me over the edge. I stared up him, wide-eyed and more turned on than I had ever been. I had never been spoken to like that, and despite the small part of me that wanted to be angry that he called me a slut, I loved it. His words made the heat inside of me grow even more, and I began to ride his fingers faster. The pressure inside of me was building quickly, and I knew I was about to come any second. “Come on baby, come for me like a good girl.” As the words left his mouth, the building pressure came to a head and I felt like I was exploding. Each one of my breaths were laced with a whisper of a moan as I continued to ride his fingers, desperate and needy, like he had said.
Once I had come down from my orgasm, he slowly removed his fingers from my panties and held them up in front of my face. I cocked my head to the side, confused about what he was doing. When I opened my mouth to ask him, it was immediately filled by fingers. His fingers. The fingers that had just been inside of me.
“Clean up your mess, baby girl.” My eyes widened, and I stared at him in horror for a few seconds, until I could see annoyance flicker across his face. I began to lick his fingers hesitantly, tasting myself for the first time. It was a strange kind of salty sweet musk, but it didn’t taste bad. Just strange. As I moved my tongue along his fingers, his annoyance turned to approval, and that approval set something off inside of me. I wanted to make him happy. Even if this was something that I wouldn’t normally do, this wasn’t for me, it was for him. I had signed up to be a submissive for a weekend, and that’s what I would do. I began to eagerly suck and lick, only opening my mouth when I was sure they were completely clean. He removed his fingers, then put his hand on the side of my face. He was gentle with his touch, it could almost be considered a caress.
“Good girl,” he cooed. I didn’t know how I felt about being called “good girl,” part of me felt belittled by it, but the words also made my insides flutter. I smiled up at him, and we held eye contact for only a few more moments before he took his hand back and put the car into drive.